A YM style moment- why me?

The other day, I was reading the always hilarious ramblings of Mrs. Eartha Kitsch, and once again was moved to near incontinent giggling, when she was writing about mortifying life moments. These things would put YM Why Me? moments to shame. [Tangent: Remember YM? You youngsters probably don't, because you were all weened on Teen Vogue or Cosmo Girl or some shit, but YM was what you're mom bought you when you were "not quite ready for Seventeen," but it was pretty much exactly like Seventeen. Anyway, the best part was the "Why Me?" section where people would write in about their most embarassing moments. 99% of them revolved around making out with their "crush" whilst getting their period unexpectedly. Real classy yarns.] Anyway, in the comments section of her blog, I told Eartha that I had a story that could do battle with her tales of severing an ass cheek with a disposable razor when just trying to take a relaxing bubble bath. Now I feel moved to come clean about one of my traumatizing childhood moments.

this little ass hole

 When I was little I had a habit of holding my pee in till I was practically filled with it and swollen like Violet Beureguard before going to the juicing room. In fact, I still have this habit- but I have trained myself like a camel. [Tangent: TMI? Seriously, you should be used to this by now.]

an artist's rendering

In first grade, I could still walk somewhat...or better yet stumble around so I didn't use a wheelchair in the classroom. To make mobility easier and keep my face plants minimal, my elementary school principal had the seat portion of a grade school chair welded onto one of the wheeled dollies used by mechanics to get under cars. [Tangent: This back story is important later on.] I remember specifically one afternoon,  as my teacher instructed the class how to not make their J's backwards, a lesson I sorely needed. i was sitting in my little rolly chair wearing my favorite yellow dress [Tangent: My grammy had sent it to me from her travels, and I am fairly certain I looked like the lost Von Trapp child.] and my bladder started knocking.

True to form, I didn't wanna disturb the class and have someone help me to the bathroom, so I opted to just pee right there and hope no one would notice. [Tangent: I remember rationalizing it by telling myself that I was wearing a yellow dress and that was good as urine camoflage. Totally rational...at least for a 7-year-old.] If I recall correctly, it wasn't just a dribble either...it was a good healthy amount of pee running all over my dress and in every tiny nook and cranny of my rolly chair. Clearly, my Kool Aid Squeez-its at lunch were running right through me.

Somehow my table mates were too busy eating paste or something, because somehow no one had noticed! In fact, I seamlessly got through the entire class period without anyone being any the wiser that they had a chair wetter in their midst. Everything seemed totally copasetic until we went to watch a filmstrip [Tangent: Again...totally showing my age.], and somone sitting next to me touched my dress. 

"Why is your dress wet?"

BUSTED. I somehow quickly covered my ass by lying to this poor first grader and telling her that the water fountain had gotten outta control. Tale as old as time, but she totally bought it and went on watching the film strip. Children are gullible.

After that the rest of the day was a blur and I tried to block the whole incident out altogether, until a couple years ago when I was telling my mom this very story, when I got the best ending possible... 20 years after the fact. 

Apparently, parent/teacher night was soon after my humilating moment and as my sweet sweet angel of a teacher was walking around giving the tour, she stopped my parents to admire my cute little rolly chair, which I can only assume smelled like a urinal cake. She said, "I'm not sure what happened. I guess a cat got into the classroom over night."

Yes, that's right...I bamboozled everyone by playing it cool [Tangent: This will go down in my personal history as the only time this has happened.] and somehow got them to believe a stray had gotten into the room and targeted my sweet little seat. If I ever doubt there is a god, I need to just rewind to that day because somehow I had gotten out of this whole experience and evaded years of personal torture by my peers [Tangent: You know it happens, if you fart during the pledge of allegience or have a stutter in 3rd grade, that shit will haunt you till high school graduation.] and even inadvertently got it blamed on a ghost cat!